


If you XYZ then do you only get XYZ?

by Hikarin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Admin_Rin, Dumbledore Bashing, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Tags May Change, Undecided Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 23:16:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13375140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hikarin/pseuds/Hikarin
Summary: First attempt at crossover! Harry runs away at the age of 9 and stumbles upon camp half blood where he learns about the wizarding world and his own divine heritage





	1. Prologue

Harry hated summers. In the winter he had less chores, there was no plants in the garden to tend to, no weeds, and the Dursleys not wanting neighbors asking questions about why he was shoveling snow when the snow plowers already did so, did not send him out to only attract unnecessary attention from their neighbors. He was on suspension from his school a week before summer vacation leaving him at the full mercy of the Dursleys and their persistent chores. They were cowards, so they never had the courage to physically hurt him, instead opting for ways to make his life harder in a non evidence leaving way.

Harry groaned in the heat of the noon sunlight, his hands caked in dirt as a result of his punishment of weeding for acting “freakish” as his uncle called it, at school of all places. It honestly wasn’t his fault that he often ended up where trouble would seek him instead of just leaving him the hell alone. He kept weeding, lost in thought as he remembered the details of his suspension and shuddered.

The teacher that had called him in to talk about his less than acceptable English grades and his chicken scratch handwriting with god knows how many spelling errors had suddenly adopted a cold air around her as she slowly led him into his office. He remembered her cold golden eyes and sinister smile, her possessed whispers, as she slowly tried to descend upon him with her teeth bared,

 _“I've been waiting and watching you godling,”_ she had stared at him like a starved lion eyeing a plump, injured prey.

 _“You’re a strong one.. You smell so good, so good,”_ He desperately wanted to tell her he was only a freak and a weakling that couldn’t even fend off his own aunt and uncle, that he was in no way strong, that she had the wrong person. But the panic that had overcome him only left his voice dead and his mouth trembling.

 _"A demigod in these parts are so rare. Let me take you,”_ He remembers screaming but no sound coming out.

A hot wave of panic had overcome him as he stood frozen and desperately wishing for help from any entity that cared. The monster called him a godling and a demigod, so he prayed with all the emotions within him that if it were true that, someone, anyone, would help him. Maybe if no one on earth had cared someone up there would. Somehow, without movement, his English teacher, no the monster was thrown across the room with an unknown force. Everything had become eerie quiet and a black wisp of smoke left the teacher and evaporated into golden dust. He remembers the quiet soft voice and the whispering laughter, this time warm and affectionate,

 _“It’s not up there who cares, but someone down here,”_ It is then that he had realized that his English teacher and the voice was not speaking in English. His relief was short lived when his headmaster walked into the room and witnessed the unconscious state of his teacher and took him down to the headmasters office to be sorted out with his “parents”.


	2. Running pt 1

Chapter 2 It was nearing Harry’s 9th birthday, and his suspension had been long since over marking the start of the summer holidays and his job as his cousins punching bag. His cousins’ birthday had been full of laughter and presents, hugs and love from his family. His birthday breakfast table filled with toys that his cousin will only appreciate for some time until he started begging for new ones.

His cousin had an overabundance of love, no matter how much he threw away, his cousin would always be filled. He knew his birthday would be another mundane day. Maybe if the Dursleys were in a good mood he might spare himself the luxury of asking if he could walk around the block to the nearby abandoned lot where he can lay on the grass and watch the clouds go by. The Dursleys would never let him go to the park where their son was and “ruin his fun”. Dudley was surely bullying the younger kids out in the park and he also did not want to become his main target either. He got out of bed and did his impossible chores to perfection.

* * *

 

It was the morning of his birthday when he awoke to someone yelling at his door. It took awhile for his sleep muddled brain to process the yelling coming from the door of his cupboard,

“FREAK IF YOU DON'T GET OUT OF YOUR-,” Harry groaned as he fumbled to get his cupboard door open, by the time he managed to open the door his uncle’s face was as red as a beet from screaming. Uncle Vernon angrly snarled at him,

“Petunia, Dudley and I are going on a trip. You stay in this house and DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING,” he emphasized.

“Don't eat anything today, we’ll be checking the fridge when we get back. Worthless freaks like you don't deserve to feel full or even touch the food that hardworking people bring to the table. We’ll discuss your punishment for ignoring the people who took you in when no one else wanted to.” His voice was calm and cold as he stared at Harry with every ounce of hatred he could muster,

“If you haven’t decided your worthlessness by then and disappeared to do us at least one good favor,” He slammed the cupboard door in Harry’s face and left. Harry just sat there holding in his tears. He refused to cry, he didn’t deserve it. He was a freak, his parents probably chose death so that they wouldn’t have to see him. Why else would they be alcoholics if they had someone they thought precious? Why did he even deserve to feel bad for himself?

There were probably people out there that went through more than he did, that didn’t bring misfortune wherever they went. Those people held the rights to despair, he didn’t. All he was was worthless, a waste of oxygen, a waste of flesh and a waste of space. He steeled his nerve and thought to himself once more that he was undeserving of his grief and smiled. He smiled until his tears went away, until he got used to the odd pulling feeling of his forced smile.

* * *

 

Soon after the Dursleys left he immersed himself in his work. He scrubbed the kitchen imagining scrubbing himself clean of his own dark emotions. He scrubbed away all his fears and all his sadness until he could think again, and the once strained smile eased a slight bit. It was 3 hours before the Dursleys would be back when he finished all his chores. He wondered if he should run. Just like his uncle told him to. Maybe if he ran, he would be free. Maybe if he ran, his debt to the Dursleys would be paid. They treated him kindly for a freak.

So that’s what he did.


End file.
